


Painless

by requiedream



Series: Painless [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Romance, Set after S8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 02:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/requiedream/pseuds/requiedream
Summary: Sansa wishes for her heart to be gone.(OLD VERSION)





	1. Chapter 1

If that's what love does, then she didn't want it anymore. Her only desire was to have the chance to stop hoping because it was killing her. Hoping to see his dark silhouette crossing the courtyard with a white shape at his feet, hoping to embrace him one last time.

So she waited and waited, but noone came through the gates, so each passing year Sansa's heart broke a little bit more.

Loneliness was her only company. Every soul of Winterfell died a long time ago or left at one time or another. And she was chained by duty to this place. She didn't complain, after all, she fought for it, she bled for it. For the North. Always.

She was made to rule but when the other part of her heart left, it wasn't the same anymore. She was just an empty shell, waiting for the night to cry herself to sleep.

And she was so tired.

But she put on a brave face before her council and people, they didn't have to know that their Queen was heartbroken and that she wished to be miles away from here. Away in a faraway land where snow was the only thing that could warm her heart.

Tired of waiting for a letter to come, she took a decision, she would visit Castle Black. Perhaps he was just overwhelmed by duty just like her, and didn't have the time to respond to her letters.

So she rode for days and when she finally arrived she didn't know that a broken heart could still beat. She couldn't believe her eyes when facing the abandoned headquarters. Did Bran know? Why didn't he tell her? A lump in her throat formed as she made her way to the room she remembered being his. The room where he placed a comforting hand on hers and looked in her eyes before saying those words she'll never forget.

'Where will we go Sansa?'.

She could almost feel the ghostly touch of his hand moving from her hands to her face. Sansa closed her eyes remembering his warmth. She missed him. She missed how he would gently replace a strand of her hair behind her ear before pulling her for a sweet kiss. Shadowing memories of him were painfully pressed against her chest slowly suffocating her.

She felt weak and wanted some fresh air, so she got up and was about to leave the room when she noticed the Stark stamp on an unfolded letter by the desk. She opened it and recognized her handwriting. It was her first letter to him after being exiled to Castle Black.

She couldn't believe it. This was a nightmare. He didn't even open it, and he left without looking back. Dumbfounded she didn't recall calling for a guard to light the fireplace. The man didn't say a thing while watching the Queen tossing the letter into the fire. She looked lost looking at the flames consuming the letters on the paper.

'Ready my horse.' She quickly commanded, and the Queen of the North never looked back again too.

Back in Winterfell she prayed by the Heart Tree. She wished for her feelings and tears to go away but each prayers were left unheard.

Until one night.

She was at her study reading a letter from Arya announcing that she will come visit with Gendry and that she had something important to tell her. She replied quickly, her mind completely elsewhere. Her window was open, and she stood up to watch the snow failing peacefully on the ground. The Heart Tree was at her sight, and Sansa saw something strange.

Little balls of light were coming from the Tree and were making a pathway behind it and throughout the forest. Curious she abandoned her paper and quill and went out.

'The night is dark and full of terrors', the priestess Melisandre used to say but Sansa was not afraid. In fact, she was drawn by the light like a moth and made her way down quickly to the forest where the little balls which were fireflies stopped.

She was freezing and leaned on a tree for some support when she heard an echo of someone laughing. It was definitely a kid and Sansa tried to straighten up, but a powerful wind knocked her on the frozen ground.

'Once upon a time you wished for your heart to stop beating,' a little voice whispered to her ears. And all of a sudden the ground started shaking, and Sansa watched the earth open under her, and a little creature with big green eyes was pulling its tiny hand for her to grasp.

'Sansa Stark your wish is granted.'

She followed the creature through the pathways of the earth until it stopped and faced her with a mischievous grin.

'Will it be painful?" She asked a lump in her throat.

The creature didn't respond to her question but pulled out from an enormous root a little stone. A beautiful veil of blue light pulsated from it and its shape looked like a spear point.

Sansa reached carefully and touched the stone with the tips of her fingers. It was cold and sharp. She looked at the creature puzzled, and it was pointing its index finger to the stone and to where her heart was.

'Sansa Stark wants the pain to go away,' it declared with its infant voice. Its green eyes watched her with such compassion that she cried.

'Yes… make it stop… I'm begging you,' she softly pleaded, having difficulty to articulate her words. She kneeled before the creature and sobbed, completely leaving her dignity, she didn't care.

The creature lifted her chin up, and Sansa saw in horror its tiny arms raising the stone in the air before abruptly piercing her heart with it. She screamed in agony as the stone was slowly pushed into her chest. Her screams of pain resonated into the earth and shook the leaves of the trees.

Blood soaked the earth, and a long cry tore the air that night.

The lonely wolf was gone.

Sansa crawled from the earth and into the stormy night, her dress tainted in red. She looked at the face of the Heart Tree. Its eyes were bleeding.

'Thank you,' she whispered through the wide.

Sansa felt no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I hope I didn't make any big mistakes. (not an english native speaker but I reread 10 times already !)
> 
> The creature is a children of the forest, and the stone is of course made of dragonglass (tadadaaaaaa 0.0).
> 
> There is a part 2, but I don't know when I'll write it (4 tests next week... love my life.), but I already know the content!


	2. Chapter 2

‘Sing it, sing it again!’ The littles girls were cheering Tormund who made a face of deep reflection. 

‘I really don’t know what you're talking about lads,’ he responded hands on his hips. They all giggled, and one of the girls grasped his hand to pull him by the fire where the other kids were sitting. 

It was a peaceful night behind the Wall and the clear view of the sky made the moonlight shine brighter than usual. 

Strange to think that the sky was the same for everyone, Jon thought his gaze far away in the south where his heart was. 

Was she seeing the same shooting star as him? Was she feeling his beating heart eager for her warmth? 

Jon sighed and watched his friend being dragged to the fire by the children of the camp. 

‘All Right chaps but you have to be quiet, this is not a light-hearted song so if I hear even one laugh, I’ll ask the big wolf to eat you up! You have to feel this song. You hear me? Like your heart is being ripped apart and broke into pieces and... ’ He made a pause and wiped a little tear falling from his eye with his fingers and the children just stared at him in awe. 

He blushed a little and coughed before beginning. His gravelly voice filled the empty air with the melody of a sad story. A story about a girl and her ghosts and how she wept alone with the memories of her loved ones. 

Jon knew this song, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like how it made his chest heavy with regrets. He didn’t like how he pictured the girl with red hair and how she looked at him disappointment in her gaze. 

He leaned against a tree just at the edge of the forest and lowered his head when the last two verses were sung. 

He was tired of hiding in this forever winter. Being exiled made him a King and Jon wanted to laugh at this little twist of life. A Kingslayer who became a King. What a joke, he mirthlessly thought. The needs of the people before his, he remembered Ned’s words to Robb and him when they were little. ‘A true leader doesn’t abandon his people even if his duty becomes a burden for him.’ 

But weariness was slowly making his life unbearable. 

And he longed to see her face again. Was it selfish of him to desire something else for him? All his life he fought and bled and died for the good of the people. The peace and quiet of this land had helped him to ease some of his pain. But he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that something was not right, that he was at the wrong place with the wrong people. 

This exile was a damnation and if he had one chance to break his chains he would. 

He tightened more of his cloak around his neck, feeling the wolf’s bite on his palm. It burned him. A strong wind was coming from the south, and Jon could feel that a storm was brewing. The leaves were shaking, and snow began to fall. He managed to stand up completely before being knocked back against the ground. 

‘Something is not right Jon,’ a familiar voice whispered to his ears. He kneeled with difficulty on the snow, the wind making his vision blurred. He recognized a white shape. Ghost was sitting in front of him, his normally red eyes were completely white, and he was staring into his eyes. 

‘Blood and ice Jon, I can see it through the trees, ice replaced the blood Jon, there is not much time left before it consumes the life. Go to Winterfell Jon, your heart is in danger.’ Ghost blinked, and Bran was gone. 

And so was Jon Snow. 

He rode for days without looking back. The cryptid message of Bran made him uneasy, and the fear that something bad happened to her made him sick. He looked at the vast plain before him, and his determination straightened when looking at the Wall. 

Wait for me, my love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> No, I'm kidding, HAPPY HALLOWEEN, so... I didn't plan on posting anything for a while ( 4 tests next week hahahahahahahaha <-- mental break down) but here we are! 
> 
> At the end I really don't know how many chapters this story will have, perhaps 3, we'll see.
> 
> And Tormund's song was, of course, Jenny of Oldstone (I really like Karliene's version on youtube), perhaps you figured it out already!
> 
> Ps: I recently finished a little 2 chapters sad story with Sansa if you don't know what to read, it is called "She felt" :3333


	3. Chapter 3

In Winterfell time seemed to have stopped. 

The courtyard once busy with lives and activities was now an empty ground. Silence was heavy and it was told that if one listened closely to the wind, they could hear the footsteps of the Queen crushing the snow during her peaceful walk. 

Sansa wished to be left alone and for that she commanded the carpenters to build new houses behind the walls of the castle to relocate the people. Only her handmaid, the cook and the maester had the right to go and went as they pleased. She visited the villagers regularly and brought fresh-cooked bread and warm smiles. She wanted her people to have a decent life, and she would never allow the depravity of the streets of King’s Landing on her lands. 

This memory of a caged little bird in the claws of the lions appeared to be from another life. Was it hers? She couldn’t recall, her mind was somewhere else. She had exhausted the memories of her tears painting her face with sadness. She was herself again. 

Free. 

Sansa sat by the Heart Tree, rays of sunlight pierced through the leaves making a beautiful pattern on the ground and melting the morning dew. But the warmth didn’t embrace her, the hardiness of the stone she was sitting on didn’t bother her and the cold breeze blowing through her hair didn’t make her shiver. 

She relished in it. Loving how the cold calmed her soul. 

‘My lady, maester Walkan is waiting for you in the courtroom,’ a shy voice interrupted her contemplation. She turned her gaze to the young girl whose cheeks were red from running in the cold of the early morning. Liia was a sweet girl and didn’t complain to be left alone with the Queen in these walls. After all, she was well paid and could see her sweetheart when she wanted. 

It was the grievances day and so Sansa did what she had to do. Listen to her people. 

Bran never responded to her questions about the man beyond the Wall and she couldn’t care anymore. His face was slowly fading from her memory, and she could only distinguish, in the fog that was her mind, a voice. 

‘It is with your voice that I pray my love, with your eyes that I see,’ the voice whispered those words to her one night. She tossed and tossed in her bed, sweats sticking strands of hair on the crook of her neck. 

‘We promised to love each other forever, did you forget?’ She clutched at her chest and straightened with difficulty on her bed. A piercing pain was making it hard to breathe. She looked out the window, the moon was high in the sky and illuminated the room with a blue veil. She felt something hot on her lips and could taste iron on her tongue.

She was bleeding. 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Two filaments of blood were pouring from her nose and down her throat where the blood stopped and coloured in red her white nightgown. Sansa slowly unbuttoned the front of the garment and with a hesitant hand moved the fabric to the side. Her shoulder was bare, and her gaze was lost for a while, staring at her skin. 

Thin blue veins were coming from her breast, encircling the skin where her heart was stabbed. The lines spread to the top of her shoulder and were slowly making their way to her throat. She could still see the dark blue light of the stone pulsated under her skin. 

‘You have to die a few times first, till you can really live, and for you Sansa I’ll die a thousand times’, she choked back a cry of pain and dragged herself out of her bedroom. She needed air, and she needed to feel the ice of the air in her lungs. She didn’t know why, but she had this yearning, almost vital to be outside, in the snow. 

In a dream-like state, Sansa walked in her nightgown and bare feet through the night, her long hair floating with the pace of her irregular footsteps. Cold, cold, cold, she needed the cold. 

She collapsed in front of the Heart Tree, face to the sky. The voice was quiet and the pain was gone. 

For now. 

The next morning, Sansa put on her gloves and a close-fitting collar dress. No one needed to know. 

And this is how the Queen in the North welcomed into her home two ghosts from her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TADA,
> 
> Really chapeau bas for all the authors that write very long chapters and keep writing something interesting instead of beating around the bush. I was planning on something longer but it was so booooring, it was just a bunch a boring detail that no one cares ("she sat on the very-detailed-bed and looked her face on the-very-detailed-mirror and blablabla") so I think I'll stick with this light style of writing!
> 
> (Of course unlike me some authors made these details extra interesting!)


	4. Chapter 4

Her ghost talked about adventures of endless seas, her enthusiasm flowing through her tells. Sansa's eyes flickered across the woman face, as though her questions are to be found in the crease of her lips.

Was she slowly losing her mind? She couldn't tell. But it took her a lot of effort to remember that this young woman sitting in front of her was her sister. And some time when the morning came again, she wondered who this stranger was.

It felt too much like a dream and when she was by the Heart Tree looking at her reflection on the freezing water, she ended up doubting her own name.

'That's why I couldn't write you before that,' Arya finished talking, her toddler babbled on her lap.

Sansa blankly stared at the child, her blue eyes resting on her black hair. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had known a man with the same hair colour.

Since Arya and Gendry arrived weeks ago and with a baby on their arms, Sansa distanced herself from the little life that was building in Winterfell. She wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

In the corridors of the castle, in the fire that warmed the walls, in the laughter of her sister, Sansa no longer felt at home.

She remained most of her days in her chamber and the nights out in the cold of the woods. Several times, Arya found her during her wanderings and pulled Sansa gently by the crook of her arm, worry in her eyes.

Sansa grew weary of listening to the endless complaints and requests from her people. Hadn't she done enough for them? Her only answer to their pleading was an icy gaze and a sharp cold tongue.

The Queen was no longer loved by her people.

Arya suggested that she should rest, and that she would take the grievances instead of Sansa. But was she tired after all? She couldn't tell either. At night she couldn't sleep, afraid to hear the remembrances of a past she forgot. And during the day, her mind was drowned to the peacefulness of the cold.

And this how he found her.

☆

'I don't know what it is Jon,' Arya started, walking alongside him to the Godswood. He stumbled upon her near the entrance of the castle. It was so natural to talk with her even though years had passed and that they had both changed. But with Arya it was like coming back to the past as he had never left it, as if time rewound to life he had in this place.

'Sometimes it feels like I'm talking to a wall, she…' Arya was nervously grasping the pommel oh her thin sword. Her next words were carefully chosen, 'She seems absent from her life Jon, as if she were sleepwalking but during the day.' she paused, weighting her last words.

Jon listened carefully to her words, recalling Bran's warning. He was about to ask a question when a baby's cry startled both of them.

'Cathy!' Arya shouted before rushing to the woods. He followed close behind her and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a glimpse of red. His blood ran cold, freezing him in place while looking at the scene before him.

Cathy, Arya's baby, Jon deduced, was crying her eyes out on the ground. Her little body was violently trembling on the ground, and her dress was damp from the snowy ground. Her face was crimson red, but her fingertips were blue from the cold. She must have been in the cold for a while.

And for Sansa, she didn't blink, didn't move and didn't respond to her sister yelling at her in disbelief and anger, her stare remained blank.

Ice replaced the blood, he remembered the warning but what was the meaning?

Sansa sat on the rock her father used to sit on and was staring at the cloudy sky. Her long hair cascading over her shoulders gave her and ethereal air. His breath caught in his throat and he could just stare even though all of his being was calling for her.

He wanted to embrace her and feel her heart pounding fast under his touches.

Heart on heart.

So he began to make his way toward her, wary of making too much noise. Arya and her child went away in the warmth of the castle, leaving them alone.

'Sansa,' he breathily called. He watched, as if time had stopped, her head moving slowly to the side and her eyes locked with his.

She was looking straight into him and it made him uneasy. The blue of her eyes seemed wither than before and her skin was as white as the snow. She looked frozen. And Jon didn't like it, Bran was right, something was wrong.

'Who…' She began, her voice came husky as though she hadn't talked for a long time.

'It's Jon, my love', concern frowning his brows. With carefulness, to not startle her, he knelt in front of Sansa and took her hands in his. He could feel the coldness through the gloves. But she violently retracted her hands from his as if she touched burning coal.

'Don't!' She warned him, cold authority in her tone.

Her sharp tone hurt him, but she had every right to be angry. The last time they saw each other was at the docks. The day she brought an army to rescue him, something she hadn't had the chance to have during her time in King's Landing. But Sansa was ready to start a war for him and he never felt more loved that his time in this narrowed cell.

He let her slip from his grasp and followed her with his eyes as she walked away from him and into the wood. Her head down and her hand at her collarbone. She seemed in pain.

'Please leave,' she asked weakly as if saying those words made her suffer.

Jon closed the distance between them and removed his dark cloak from his shoulders to place it on hers. She let him do it without a word. He then gently replaced a strand of her hair behind her ear and stepped back slowly, looking intensely at her before going back to the castle.

He needed to write to Bran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so difficult to write their meeting :x, I hope I did something good ( I erased my first draft of this chapter because it was boring in my opinion, I started directly with Jon'pov but it was for saying nothing for the story so I changed to Sansa, I think it is better this way, I could explain the change in her behavior more easily! I hope it was not too fast.)
> 
> And about the end... :3 I imagined one already! I don't plan on making 20 chapters, surely less than 10 I think!
> 
> ps: can everyone see the star between the two povs? Just to know if I have to replace it with something else or not.


	5. Chapter 5

She fought it, the pain. She fought against it and bled because of it, but nothing changed. And the suffering increased when the man came. Jon. The moment her eyes fell on his face she felt something in her chest, a stirring sensation that languished to leave her body. Her head down, she suffered and cried.

He was tormenting her with his presence and sweet words, always by her side as if her shadow had taken life.

‘My love,’ he was always calling her that way with a deep sorrow in his eyes. Words of love and apologies flowing from his mouth but instead of healing her, there were poisoning her. Feeling her mind with memories of a past life. And in these memories, all she could feel were her tears streaming down her cheeks and her joy transforming into pain.

‘I hoped, and I hoped for a response, but it never came!’ She burst in front of him, her chair making a thud on the floor. They were in her study and he was coaxing her to talk. She couldn’t take it anymore, and something in her sparked an old flame of anger and she could only shout.

‘When you didn’t respond, I was ashamed of so much love!’ She crossed the floor towards him, ‘Do you know what it feels to be disgusted by loving someone too much?!’ His mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out.

‘To want the pain to just go away?!’ She was violently hitting her chest with her fist. ‘I was so stupid! A stupid girl who never learns!’ She cried even louder. Her throat tightened, her breath coming loud and fast. She couldn’t breathe, her blood roaming in her ears as she sank to the floor, her fingers digging in her throat.

‘I swallowed my tears and avoided myself too,’ she whispered to herself.

Nobody knew that it would be her last words before a long time.

Jon didn’t know it when he sank to the floor to embrace her nor when he pulled her closer to his chest.

She let him do it, feeling numb. He gently stroked her cheek, his hand slowly and dangerously descending on her neck when the fabric had been pulled by her fingers. She knew that he saw it when his eyes widened in shock. The thin blue veins were circling her entire neck and were coming from her chest like the roots of a tree.

It wouldn’t be too long before it came to her face.

His eyes searched hers for a response, but she couldn’t give him one. Sansa watched him as he closed his eyes and opened them again but with determination instead of fear.

‘No matter what happens, Sansa’, he whispered fiercely to her ear, ‘I will never leave you again’, he gently kissed the blue patterns on the crook of her neck.

And Sansa shivered for the first and last time because that night she prayed again and like the last time her prayers were heard.

She thought she was alone, but a flying shadow followed her that night. This time she was leaning on the Heart Tree when she saw them, the little fireflies. They were showing her the path into the woods.

‘Sansa Stark’s heart is too big for this life. She feels too much and she is tired’, she recognised the infant voice, it was coming from the trees.

‘When you pierced my heart, you promised me that the pain would go! That I’d be free! ’, she cried out in frustration. She searched the branches of the trees, but she saw nothing until she felt littles fingers grasping her wrist.

‘She has to stop fighting it, let it swallow her heart and the pain will go forever,’ it was watching her with its big green eyes, she could see the thrill in its eyes and unlike the last time she didn’t feel at ease.

‘What do you mean by …’ it cut short her question by tapping its hand on her chest. ‘Feel the pain, stop fighting it,’ it stressed each word without tearing its gaze from hers. Its fingers were hammering her chest with a fast rhythmic, mimicking the beating of a heart.

Sansa’s mind went blank.

The trees were spinning, black spot inking her sight, she sank on her knees, hands pulling on her hair, the pain was unbearable.

She felt like her skin was being ripped apart.

So she cried.

But this was not the lonely cry of the wolf, this one died a long time ago.

No, this cry could freeze the blood of the bravest warrior. Sharp like a thousand swords, it cut through the air with a biting coldness.

The dark shape flapped its wings frantically and faded with the black of the night.

In the castle, the man who had already died had a nightmare. A nightmare with icy eyes and a never-ending night.

☆

He found her first. Her face on the earth, it was as if she had collapsed from exhaustion. Jon pulled her hair from her face and swallowed his nerves when seeing the delicate skin streaked with thin light blue veins.

He took her in his arms and took her back to the castle.

She was not alone, this time he will be there for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So..., I wrote the interaction between them because I found that something was missing.  
I don't think I can pull out a story when I'm writing the full history of their love story because it's really too delicate and I'm afraid that I will write something not realistic at all so I'm happy that you guys just accept the story as it is :').


	6. Chapter 6

He just came from the Godswood where he found her and was laying her on her bed, he looked at her worried. A cold air was enveloping her, and he could almost see the steam coming from her skin.

His fingers traced the contour of her pale face, the thin blue veins were disappearing and reappearing under his track. It was odd, as if they were coming from a source, the lines kept travelling down her neck to her chest, imitating strangely some kind of rhythm.

A beating heart?

'Could it be?' he breathily wondered. A sense of dread took over him as he remembered his nightmare from the night before.

Icy blue eyes watching him from afar, cold air blasting his face while his feet remained frozen in place.

He couldn't stop his mind picturing her face next to the ugly one of the White Walkers. Too many similarities but it couldn't be that.

No, she couldn't.

The sky was clouded in grey so he lit up a couple of candles before placing them on the bedside table. With trembling hands, he hastily unbuttoned the collar of her dress and moved the fabric to the side to take off her light corset. He was careful to not expose her completely as he opened her white gown, it was painful enough to see her completely defenceless under his touch, it didn't feel right to see her naked body in this situation.

He wished to see her loving smile under him as he loved her.

But he saw something else instead.

Between her breast a deep dark blue veil of light was pulsating under her skin where her heart was. He could finally see clearly that the veins were coming from what it seemed a scar. It reminded him of his own scars on his chest.

The scars he had from being stabbed to death.

Feeling the first touch of rage, he struggled to keep his anger in his voice when he heard the calling of Liia behind the closed door. He forgot that he asked her earlier to prepare the necessity for a warm bath.

With great vehemence, he buttoned her dress up before covering her body under the blanket.

He kissed her cold lips and left the bedroom before instructed the handmaid to do nothing before his return.

He needed answers and the only person who knew anything was Bran but he didn't respond to his last letter. Jon didn't understand him anymore. He was the first person to warn him about Sansa but on the other hand he left him alone with just a cryptic message for help.

Time was running out, so he needed to talk to him.

He took the direction of the Godswood, but Ghost was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated by the situation he shouted Bran's name to the sky and kneeled in front of the Heart Tree, his forehead on the tree trunk.

'Answer me,' he whispered in irritation.

He felt guilty of leaving her years ago, but what could he have done? He loved her with all his being but at that time he was afraid and too tired to fight another battle. He had brought fire and blood to a city, and because of him thousands of innocents people died a horrible death.

'Dracarys', one word for a thousand lives.

He remembered walking on the ruined streets of Kings Landing, ashes falling endlessly from the sky, charred bodies on every corner of his vision, groans of pain and despair assaulted his eardrums and the petrified faces of the survivors following him on his path.

At that very moment, he felt like the worst human being walking on the surface of the Earth.

He wanted nothing more than to die. In fact, when he stood in front of the Dragon Queen, dagger in his hand, he was ready to face death again. He felt sad for this young Queen whose life was a never-ending course of losses and revenge. But her blood was as cursed as his and he had to put an end to this madness. He held his gaze on her purple eyes when he drove the dagger through her ribs and into her back.

'I'm sorry,' he cried, his tears falling on her face. He cried for the lives that were lost that day, for the innocent boy that took the black years ago and that found himself beat by life in every step that he took. He cried for the mother who never loved him, for the only father he had ever knew and the brothers he would never laugh with again.

The only thing that held his sanity from driving the dagger into his own flesh was to picture Sansa when she would eventually found his body. She didn't deserve this, and she had suffered enough for a lifetime.

So, he would live for her.

When the sentence of an exile to the Night Watch was proclaimed, he didn't fight or plead. He accepted it without protest, after all, he killed a Queen and he could never live a normal life as if nothing happened. The blood of innocents will forever soak the holes of the paving stone of this cursed city.

Their last embrace on the docks was too short but the simple thought of her love for him was enough to keep him warm for the next years in the freezing cold of the Wall. That day he whispered to her ears alone that he will come back, that he needed time but one day she would see him passing through the gate of the courtyard and that they will be at last together.

He remembered her teary smile at him and her trembling hands on his shoulders and the way she reluctantly stepped back from him, and how he immediately missed her touch.

But Sansa understood him and let him go.

But he came back too late.

'Your heart died last night, and someone will face the consequence today', the voice was coming from behind him. A sparrow was on the stone before the little pond, and its white eyes were looking straight at him.

'Who did that to her?! I saw… she was stabbed in the heart, Bran.' Jon stammered, anger and incomprehension in his voice.

'The Children.' Bran answered and without missing a beat continued with his monotone tone 'It's watching us at the moment.'

A loud crack of wood followed by an echo of a children laugh made Jon leap to his feet and he quickly spun toward the noise, his back on Bran.

Green eyes looked back at him but Jon could only see the golden circle around its iris shined brightly before disappearing in the shadow of the trees.

'Are you hurt too, Jon Snow?' its infant voice came from every direction, 'Do you have a wish for the trees?' its tone filled with mirth and laughter.

A light rain was quickly picking up and was now hammering through the trees to bounce ankle high on the ground.

'Come to me Jon Snow and I will tell you the secret to save her!' It finished, playfulness in its voice.

Jon opened his mouth to retort something but the Children cut him short and added:

'Oh no. I forgot that it is too late!' the chill in its voice touched Jon for the first time and without a word he drew his sword, holding it tight in his grasp, his eyes roamed the shadows of the woods before spotting a moving shape at the far end of the path.

Without any hesitation he took this direction but was stopped dead in his tracks by a terrifying cry.

A cry of horror.

It was coming from the castle.

'An innocent person will die tonight if you don't hurry!', Bran voice draw him from his thoughts.

Shielding his eyes from the spitting rain, Jon looked back at the woods and started up in fright when the eyes of the Children were only centimetres from his face. It was upside down, its legs wrapped around a branch.

'Jon Snow is late as always. Look!' it shouted in amusement.

Fire.

He saw fire on the reflection of the Children's eyes.

He faced the castle and watched in horror the growing of the orange and red flames. He immediately located the royal wing and in a heartbeat was already running toward the castle.

Bran and the Children were forgotten.

In the corridor, he heard the sound of broken glass over a yelling of a woman. It was coming from Sansa's bedroom.

He padded down the corridor with Longclaw in his grasp and stopped before reaching the door. He was not alone, Gendry and Arya were already there. She saw him first and motioned him oddly to be quiet with her index finger on her lips and nodded him to come closer.

Her hand on the doorknob, she tried to open it but was instantly burned by it, they could feel the heat of the fire on their face. She tried again but this time with her foot but stopped when a blood-curdling scream tore the air. They looked at each other. Realisation of what could be on the other side of the door.

Impossible.

So many questions went through their minds and as Arya yanked open the door with the help of the strong blows of the shoulder of Gendry, Jon couldn't stop picturing the odd demeanor Sansa had the first and last time he saw her.

She seems absent from her life, Arya had said to him.

A blasting warmth enveloped him as the door finally fully opened before them and Jon remained frozen in place as he locked his eyes on the face of his love.

She was hammering the face of her handmaid with a piece of broken glass, disfiguring the young woman who was still screaming in agony.

Arya was quick to react and without and hesitation slammed the vanity's chair on her sister's head, disoriented her enough to take Liia from her deadly hands.

A red pattern of blood was at Sansa's knees, and she added some more of her blood to it when she coughed and leaned on the floor with the cut hand that gripped the glass. The tip of her hair soaked in blood, Jon couldn't believe his eyes when the only thing he saw when she looked up at him was nothing.

Nothing but dead haunting eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ET VOILÀ CHER(E)S AMI(E)S
> 
> So... it's been a while. I had a little writing block and it's always the same scenario: how to begin the chapter! Again I started with another one, it was quite dramatic, something like that: "It all fall down quickly and as the beginning of all life, it began with a cry" O_O
> 
> /!/UPDATE I EDITED THE CHAPTERS AFTER ALL /!/And on a good note, with the advice of a very nice reader (:3) I found a lovely beta aka Spicehoney! Thanks to her hard work, you can finally read the chapters without cringing at little mistakes! (I cringed too when I saw all the little silly mistakes that I made... ).
> 
> ps: For Daenerys, I can't hate her but at the same time she did horrible things and her character (at the end of the tvshow) was poorly written. We all saw her madness coming ,after all she never really was "nice", she just killed the "bad" guys (but it's not as simple as that) and that's it but it was too quick.
> 
> And on a side note, I can't read stories with her as a main character because for me she ruined Jon Snow e_e and it was unbelievable frustrating to see his character crumbling into THIS (I can't recount how many time I raised my eyes to the sky in each sentences that were coming from his stupid (I love him but still...) mouth in the 7 and 8S..., fortunately we had Sansa to save us all). But anyway, I talk too much!


	7. ANNONCE

Hello ! I'm back ! First of all I hope that everyone is safe and healthy during this weird time. Hopefully it will get better soon or at least safer for everyone.

SO, sorry this is not a chapter BUT I have decided to rewrite my story ! Yes ! It will be almost the same but I will just add a little bit more contexte and texts, you'll see ! i(f you still want to read it of course x) !) It's just that when reading it, it seems so ruched? I know that it was the type of writing that I was going for but some parts were very weird.

BUT for it I have a dilemma and I wanted to have your opinions before doing it: should I erase ALL the story and start a new (I will post it with the same title and summary) or edited each chapters? My preference is to erased it because the story will not be hiding in the underworld of the pages of the site because I didn't post in a while (humhumhumhum) but on the other hand all of your lovely and encouraging comments will be erased e.e. And I liked them very much as a newby writer x').

So what do you think of those two options? :o


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